Of Kisses and Identities
by princessblair
Summary: "How much would you pay for a night with her?"


Oh man, I felt so bad about Caliginem I had to write a crack fic for it. That's all I can ever do with these two; either a crack fic or an extremely depressing one. I'll try and do something fluffy but gosh my hands are starting to ache and shit. There's no actual sex scene- i chickened out because of reasons and yeah... that. anyway, here's that and i hope you guys will enjoy.

* * *

"_How much would you pay for a night with her?"_

Jean Kirschtein is not the type of man you would peg as someone who would pay for sex. He's good-looking; he has to give himself that. And his charm with the ladies isn't so bad; he can get what he wants without a lot of effort. By no means was he cocky though, there are quite a number of women that can turn Jean into a messy bumbling fool.

Mikasa Ackerman is one of them.

Which is why he's here, in front of a very high-end brothel, praying to whatever god it is up there that he could find someone who looks remotely like her. And maybe if he's lucky enough, he'll get over his stupid crush on her. It will never do him any good if he continues drooling and fumbling over her, when in reality there's no way he'll ever have a chance with her. At least, not in this lifetime.

Jean spreads his hands and pushes the heavy wooden door of the brothel, a chorus of murmurs, whispers and obnoxious laughter coming from both the patrons and the escorts enters his ears. He shifts nervously on his feet, his lack of experience in this type of department is apparent. Jean's subtle honey eyes search for some sort of a front desk or whatever—what he gets, though, is a nosy escort, who's clearly had one too many.

"Hi hon, whatcha lookin' fer?" The tall woman sends him a wink that should probably be enticing for most men but it falls short on Jean. Her intimidating height towers above him and her short pants of breath smelled every bit of inebriated to him. He flinches away from her clammy hands which are currently trying to grab whatever it is his clothes are hiding.

"I-uh—" The soldier stumble on his words as he tries to politely push away the grabby hands. It doesn't deter the woman the least and chuckles at his shyness. "Is there someone I can talk to about uh—"

"Oh damn!" The tall woman exclaims, her hair which was previously covering her unclothed breasts have been flipped behind her back as she snaps her fingers high above their heads. "You are so good looking; I didn't think you'd have a kink…" The escort murmurs, seemingly more to herself than to him. Still, he rubs the back of his head with his hands in an awkward attempt to dispel his shame.

"I'm not really—"

"Nonsense, child." She interjects. Her left hand swishing around as if she's calling someone forward, her other hand finds his wrists and she jerks him towards her right, a pudgy old man comes to view. "We all have kinks, some are just too afraid to admit it."

His head swims, the mere thought of Mikasa experiencing pleasure was enough to get his blood pumping. Though, he's sure Jaeger would probably be her kink and nothing else. He shakes his head to get rid of any nasty thoughts; he reminds himself why he's here. He needs to let his childish crush go and probably his jealousy along the way, too.

"Howard, help this fine young man find a woman for tonight. I have a client waiting." The woman licks her lips and gives him another wink before she disappears into the dark ambiance of the room. Jean tries to squint his eyes and follow her figure but the lights are far too bleary for him to do so. A throat clears and his head immediately snaps to the man in front of him.

"What would you want?" The pudgy man asks. The man's balding spot is in plain view of Jean and it took every ounce of his control not to stare at it too long. It was a little hard though, he was standing a foot taller than the man and meeting the guy's eyes was proving to be a feat.

"I uhm…" He starts, unsure if he'd made the best decision to do this. He isn't exactly known for being brilliant, they have Armin for that, but he was in no means an idiot. Right now though, he's feeling a whole lot like one. "Do you have uhm…"

"Son, I haven't got all day. You don't even look like you can afford these girls." The man called Howard thumps his feet in impatience. He gives Jean a once over and decides he isn't worth his time and slowly turns to leave him. Jean however, has woken up from his self-induced inner turmoil and had yanked the man's collar in surprise. The man yelps, Jean raises his hands in defense and everyone else stops what they're doing just to stare at the scene.

"Sorry I—"

"Sorry?! You wanker tried to strangle me—"

"Now, now Howard. We talked about your manners, didn't we?" An elegant woman floats towards them, stopping the fat man from throttling Jean into shreds. Her hair was just a little longer than Mikasa's but it was equally as black as hers. The soft expanse of her skin was lighter than Mikasa's pale ones, but Jean thinks that if Mikasa had not been training so much under the sun, she'd probably be as pale as the woman in front of him. Her light blue eyes are not a match for Mikasa's stormy grey eyes that could probably cut deep if it was magically transformed into a weapon. He should know, he's been under its scrutiny a few times and he doesn't plan on testing that theory again.

"Y-yes. Sorry." The man stumbles on his words and quickly leaves the scene, leaving the mysterious woman and Jean alone while the onlookers return to their previous tasks. Her aura was just the same- _just the same_ as Mikasa's- it's confident and powerful; it doesn't demand attention, instead, it attracts it without meaning to. She's perfect for tonight.

"How much are you?" Jean blurts out. He scolds himself mentally on how smooth he actually is and Marco is probably laughing at him somewhere in heaven on how pathetic he sounds. The mysterious woman cocks her eyebrows upwards and plants a smirk in her soft pink lips, her hands crossing underneath her breasts.

"Are you sure you can afford me, boy?" Challenging him, that's what she's doing. Her tone is playful but truthful and it makes Jean's fingers dig deep into his palms in effort to calm his emotions. He feels like a livewire.

"That's why I'm asking," He grumbles.

"I have a witty one over here." She notes lightly. Her feet drag her to a slow pace, circling Jean to get a good eyeful of him. He feels like a lamb waiting to be slaughtered and he thinks that he shouldn't be the one who's being scrutinized. "You're very lucky you're pretty cute. Tell me how much you have and I'll take it."

He nods his head in shock and fishes out a bag of gold from his pockets and hands it to her. It was almost a month's worth of savings but if it could help him, it'll be worth it. The woman takes it gingerly and proceeds to open the packet, glancing at its contents.

"Not bad. Do you want to do it here or…?"

"No, I have a room booked in an inn."

x

"I need you to pretend to be someone." Jean closes the door to his rented room and gestures towards an over-stuffed couched for the woman to sit in. She daintily slips on the couch and she pats the seat beside her, her eyes glinting towards Jean.

"I can do that."

"Oh uhm…" He opens the top drawer of his bed-side table and takes the neatly folded clothing he had haphazardly stuffed inside early on. He hands it over her to take and the woman eyes it wearily. "Can you wear this?"

Her long fingertips prod the stack of clothes, the distinctive wings of freedom insignia right under her nose. "You have a thing for soldiers?" She asks as she takes the clothing and places it above her lap.

"Only for one."

"Do I look like her?"

"No, but I guess we can just blow the candles off or something." He sits beside her and rests his elbows on his knees, palming his face when he realizes what a seriously bad idea this is. "You're Mikasa for tonight."

"I'm Mikasa," She states. "What's your name?"

He looks at her with a puzzled expression on his face. She chuckles at him and explains further, "So I would know what to scream later."

"Jean. My name is Jean."

x

Mikasa Ackerman is not tired physically but her mental state was simply out of circuits. She had just gotten back from their meeting with the upper crest of Sina where the whole lot of Levi's new squad had been required to be showcased like pigs to be served to them. None of them had a choice in the matter, even Captain Levi had been particularly sour with regards to being puppets of the politicians, but not attending would mean budget cuts on their part. That and the fact that the Captain would never willingly give the Commander a headache, he was far too loyal and if the Commander had asked him to bark- he would do so, no questions asked.

Mikasa was a different matter altogether, though. She had adamantly protested their presence but Levi was quick to point out that if they fail to show up; Eren's custody would be questioned. That had effectively shut her up but it doesn't mean it wouldn't be taxing for her. Her behavior towards some of the Sina goons had been reprimanded by her Captain, which is why she was asked to stay behind and was required an hour full of reminders on how uncivilized she is.

Seriously, she's aware. It isn't really a matter of education, rather, she thinks that respect is earned rather than imposed. None of the men she had interacted with had earned it, so she didn't think of giving it.

She breathes a sigh, her tired shoulders sag and her tight 3DMG straps start to irritate her skin. She lightly pads her feet along the hallway of their assigned rooms, careful not to wake anyone up. Her footsteps, however, come to a halt when she spots a shadowy figure tip toeing outside one of the rooms.

'_Intruder'_ Her mind instantly thinks, the figure looked fishy and she crosses the possibility of it to be one of her squad mates. She quietly lunges towards it, her forearms digging deep on the intruder's throat and she lifts the figure higher causing the intruder to choke for air. The figure was seemingly a woman, her dress is tight and blaringly red which Mikasa assumes is very expensive. She hasn't seen a material like it in her lifetime.

Even under the soft light of the moon, Mikasa could make out the woman's blue eyes. She looks familiar. The figure drops a shuffle of things that lands on Mikasa's feet, but being the vigilant soldier that she is; she ignores it and instantly starts to question her captive.

"Who are you?" She asks. The woman garbles on her air and Mikasa slightly loosens her hold, and at the same time she takes a fleeting glance at the lump of clothes at their feet. "Is that my…?"

Mikasa retracts her sympathy and brings back her tight hold on the woman's neck. "You thief. You stole my uniform." She violently whispers.

"Hnggg… wasn't hgnn… me… hgnn…"

"Who did it then? I caught you red-handed and yet you're trying to blame it on someone? Do you think I'm stupid?" Mikasa's grey eyes narrowed towards teary blue ones. The figure points towards a door and Mikasa eyes it questioningly. "That door?"

The woman nods her head and Mikasa let's her catch her breath with a decisive resolution to let her go and grab her clothes.

She had made the mistake of leaving her scarf at her room and whoever it is who is behind that door would pay.

"Leave and never let me catch you again."

x

She knocks on the door tentatively; still worried about the amount of noise she's producing. She clutches her uniform set on her right hand and waits for the door to open.

It does, and she did not expect to be hauled like a rag doll and be kissed out of her mind.

She pushes the person away from her but its hold was tight and her mind was starting to haze on how good the person was on snogging the life out of her.

"Thank god you work fast," He murmurs against her probably swollen lips. Her mind dings to a realization. She knows that voice. She can recognize it from a mile away while it's shouting at her for being so careless.

"Jean?" She says meekly, her lips were too preoccupied with the light nibbles he was peppering on them. Each stroke of his warm tongue was sending thunderous amounts of blood down her south and that shouldn't be healthy.

"And jesus, you sound just like her. Only, you're more submissive." He leaves her lips to latch his skillful mouth on her neck. She barely registers his statement, how could she, when his teeth and tongue is doing heavenly things to every inch of flesh she's exposing him. She cannot even fathom how she's standing because she's sure her knees had mysteriously vanished.

He flushes their bodies closer together, his arms supporting the small of her back and her neck- his feet clamoring to push their weight into any type of support. He finds the wall and thrusts them none too gently on it. They both groan at the impact, but Jean's cry was stifled the moment Mikasa's knees finally find their use and begin to grind on his crotch area.

Jean uses both of his hands to hold her further away from him, her back digging closer to the wall. "Jean?" She asks him, her fingers massaging the thin dark brown hair at his nape while his head moves in closer to her neck. He takes long deep breaths as if he's taking a good whiff of her.

"You smell amazing."

He buries his large hands inside her silky hair, his index finger and thumb playfully rolling strands of her hair. He gives her another kiss, this time it's languid and sweet, enough for him to tell her that he's convinced she's doing a splendid job on her acting. He swipes his tongue across hers, tasting wine on her lips as he covers it with his own.

Her playful hands lock him into place, urging him to continue his ministrations through the pressure of her hold. Not that he would think of leaving her, he's too aroused and it's shamelessly digging on her thighs.

"Bed,"

Nodding his head in agreement, he hauls her once again, and fumbles his way through the dark. "Fuck," Cursing under his breath whenever he would stub his toe on a piece of furniture. Finally, he finds something vaguely soft and he plops her on it unceremoniously.

She moans when his body covers hers and his hands swift along her sides, burning through her uniform as if it was never there. She decides that they're in the way and her hands trail to push her jacket out of the way. She was stopped, however, when strong fingers circle around her wrists.

"Stop," He whispers. His head is hovering above the junction between her neck and her shoulder. He sucks on it lightly, and smirks at himself when he hears her gasp beneath him. "I've always wanted to take them off you."

She nods her consent, letting her hands fall to her sides, waiting patiently for Jean to just throw her fucking clothes off.

x

The morning after was a quite an affair.

Jean had woken up first with a big smile on his face. He feels his muscles hum happily at the thought of last night as he tries to make his way to the men's room, but a hand across his waist stops him. He was almost tempted to yank it off and ask her politely to leave, but after last night's performance, she had certainly earned a well-rested sleep. He was too afraid of glancing at his nighttime partner and just settles himself back to the bed, head averted to the side.

His eyes stare at her creamy small hand that is splayed on his chest, twitching every often. He studies it intently and he wonders why the hell a woman of her stature would even have callused and bruised hands.

Answer is, she shouldn't.

He gives in to the temptation and finally looks at the woman beside him. He seriously did not expect to see Mikasa's adorable sleeping face.

He screams, she shouts in surprise and jumps out of the bed with the sheets, that sends Jean tumbling on the floor in a heap of mess.

"What the-?" Her hair is in disarray and she scrambles to cover her body while throwing an accusing finger towards Jean. She tries to blink away the sleep from her eyes but they remain hazy despite the continuous rubbing she had done.

"Why are you here?" Jean demands. Her brows furrow in confusion.

"Huh?"

"I mean- uh…" He was suddenly hit by his natural-born shyness towards her. He notes that behind the shield of the sheets, she looks like she's naked. Actually, with the light flooding the room, it's pretty obvious with the way her curves are shadowing against the white—

He remembers he's equally naked as she is.

"What are you doing here?" His tone is softer but was still quite demanding. She _hmphs _ in indignation, perplexed beyond belief that he doesn't even remember the night before.

"Well we slept together, obviously. Since you clearly don't remember, let's leave it at that and forg—"

He closes the distance between them and if she had thought she was going to get another round of those mind-blowing kisses- she's wrong. He pinches the skin on her hips and she screams bloody murder.

"The fuck are you—"

"You're real." He observes.

"You idiot, you're supposed to pinch yourself and not me. Someone should give you an award or something." She slides back on the bed and turns her back away from him, the graceful curve of her spinal column open for him to admire.

"I mean- jesus fucking Christ. You mean to tell me I had sex with the real thing?"

"What are you talking about?" She gives him a side-way glance, her head still perched on top of his pillows that he's sure, still smells distinctively like him. His eyes widen when she buries her head further, nuzzling her nose as she takes a deep breath of his scent.

"I- uh…"

"I had sex."

"Nice going," Her muffled voice is deadpanned as usual and he's now a hundred percent sure she's the real deal.

"With you." He adds.

"I don't see anyone else here. Do you?"

"No…" He mumbles pathetically and lounges back on the bed beside her, fully convinced that if he somehow rests his head, his mind will finally wrap itself around the absurdity of the situation.

"You had sex with me."

"I don't know," Her tone is light and teasing while she lifts her head up to give him a little giggle that he swears he had never seen her do before. "Maybe I just slipped in naked." She gives him an exaggerated eye roll to emphasize her sarcasm.

"I didn't think I could have you." He admits, eyes still wide with shock on how he could get the Mikasa Ackerman in the same bed as him.

"I'm here aren't I?" She gives him a rare smile that she usually reserves just for Eren and Armin, his heart swells. He realizes that his plan had completely backfired and he's probably into her deeper than he can imagine.

"Yes, you are."


End file.
